These days I've been waking up at around midday, actually I regained consciousness hours earlier, but couldn't find any good reasons to crawl out of warmth, nothing to look forward to outside, so I just lay there and in a confusing state I fell asleep again till hours later when I found out that it was already past twelve o'clock and the nasty taste in my mouth drove me finally out of my bed. I took a lengthy shower and sat before my computer to do my internet routine, then before I knew it it was already time for dinner. I bumped into her in the eating place, but I didn't say hi, just walked past through her, if she didn't want to see me or talk to me why should I bother humiliating myself? She wouldn't like it anyway.
Back home, I played Party Shuffle from the iBook and a song of Sarah McLachlan came soothingly out of the speaker. Under a hit of nostalgia I played all her songs and looked her up on the net. On one of the pages I came upon a story of a fan of her, Lisa Cammilleri. Of how the songs of Sarah helped her through the death of her dad and how she wanted to meet her. She almost did because there was a greeting backstage set up for her to meet Sarah, but she died last year before the concert.
Her story reminded me of why I became a fan of Sarah in the first place. I looked at photos of Lisa and then I thought about the oh so meaningful half-life that I was leading. Then all of a sudden the music went back to my ears and it was "Hold On" that was playing. Stirred up by her voice, I couldn't stop my eyes from turning red thinking about all this, thinking about the time when I could still sit down and appreciate songs and every details without haste and that there was magic and wonder in the world and that I was feeling something. Well, I do am now, but I fear that very soon I would get back to the state of apathy.
The other day in the library I came upon a phrase which I loved so much that I wrote it down, all the world's great have been little boys who wanted the moon; running and climbing, they sometimes caught a firefly. But if that mind grows to a man's mind, that mind must see that it cannot have the moon and would not want it if it could - and so it catches no fireflies.
Back home, I played Party Shuffle from the iBook and a song of Sarah McLachlan came soothingly out of the speaker. Under a hit of nostalgia I played all her songs and looked her up on the net. On one of the pages I came upon a story of a fan of her, Lisa Cammilleri. Of how the songs of Sarah helped her through the death of her dad and how she wanted to meet her. She almost did because there was a greeting backstage set up for her to meet Sarah, but she died last year before the concert.
Her story reminded me of why I became a fan of Sarah in the first place. I looked at photos of Lisa and then I thought about the oh so meaningful half-life that I was leading. Then all of a sudden the music went back to my ears and it was "Hold On" that was playing. Stirred up by her voice, I couldn't stop my eyes from turning red thinking about all this, thinking about the time when I could still sit down and appreciate songs and every details without haste and that there was magic and wonder in the world and that I was feeling something. Well, I do am now, but I fear that very soon I would get back to the state of apathy.
The other day in the library I came upon a phrase which I loved so much that I wrote it down, all the world's great have been little boys who wanted the moon; running and climbing, they sometimes caught a firefly. But if that mind grows to a man's mind, that mind must see that it cannot have the moon and would not want it if it could - and so it catches no fireflies.
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